Chapter the Twenty-Fourth

            It was only a few more days after their escape that the foursome walked upon Niaequein shores. They arrived at Neygren, just at the dock. Luckily, the town was too busy for anyone to notice four teenagers climbing out of the water perfectly dry.

            Baeddan breathed in Neygren’s air. The smell of pirates, bakeshops and lake water hung in the air, and he couldn’t suppress a smile. It felt so good to be home again. Iraella gripped his hand, guiding him along the busy streets. He heard Mabon and Barden talking behind him, still goggling over the Zerhze, and he heard children begging for fresh bread from the bakery. There was a tingling in a stomach, a warm, happy feeling that he hadn’t felt since he was kidnapped. He couldn’t wait to meet up with Calida, his adoptive mother, again.

            “We’re going onto grass, so try to feel around for sticks,” said Iraella. Baeddan tried as grass tickled at his ankles, making him really want to stop and scratch them, but he still tripped over sticks. Iraella was ready to help pull him up before he fell, but sometimes he was too heavy for her.

            “What does it look like?” Baeddan whispered to Iraella. He hated needing to ask these sorts of questions.

            “Hmmm….” Iraella mumbled. Baeddan could imagine the little frown that would appear between her eyes and her stroking her chin with her free hand. “There are trees, tall Cheriuns, but they aren’t all that dense. Sunlight peeks through them now and then. Ahead there’s a field. I know you’d like it. That’s what I thought when I passed it when I was on my way to Neygren. Here, we’re entering it now….” Baeddan felt sun hitting his cheeks, and longed to squint—though he used to find it terribly irritating. “The field is sunny, and the sun is hitting the grass just right, making it look that perfect light green. There are a couple of purple and yellow wildflowers here and there, but not a whole lot. There are only about three trees off to the right. I see a couple of dragonflies. Wha—? Mabon, Barden, can you tell what that is?”

            Mabon and Barden stopped chattering. Oh, Baeddan longed to see, but he could only wait anxiously as one of the boys’ footsteps crunched quietly across the grass.

            “It-it tis a person!” cried Mabon. Somebody gasped and Iraella started running, dragging Baeddan along.

            Iraella stopped abruptly after a short distance, and Baeddan looked down supposing that it was on the ground.

            “Oh.” That was Iraella. She spoke so faintly that only Baeddan could hear her.

            “What is it?” Baeddan asked nervously.

            “Oh, Baeddan!”

            “Iraella, what is it?” asked Baeddan again, a little more firmly.

            “Baeddan—it’s Nasia.”      

            Iraella could clearly see the shock in Baeddan’s face despite his broken—glass eyes. “Is she……Okay?” Baeddan asked. Instead of shock there was concern now.

            “She is unconscious,” replied Mabon’s voice.

            Iraella looked back down at Nasia’s body that lay in a crumpled heap. One wing was visible, for she was crouched laying on her right side. The visible wing was a faint, almost transparent purple, and it shined when the sun moved. But it was bent at odd angles, and looked like it would hurt.

            Barden was bent over Nasia. He pushed back her radiant, shining brown locks and looked at her face. Her eyes were closed softly, and her mouth was slightly parted. Barden put his hand in front of her mouth, feeling for breath. He stood up.

            “She’s breathing. I don’t know what knocked her out though. Except for that one wing she seems fine,” said Barden. If he was confused at all that Nasia happened to be a fairy, he didn’t show it. Surprisingly, neither did Mabon.

            “Shouldn’t we bring her with us?” Baeddan asked.

            Iraella nodded at them, then remembered that he couldn’t see her. “Yes, yes I think we should,” she said.

            Barden stooped over to scoop her up, but she was too heavy to lift, so Mabon stepped in and helped. Nasia didn’t look especially heavy, but Mabon and Barden both were long and lanky.

            Nasia’s body lay limp and her head lolled peacefully from side to side as they walked through the field, just as if she were a sleeping baby.

            “Where should we take her?” Barden asked.

            “To my house. My parents should help,” Iraella said.

            “Does she look like my painting?” Baeddan asked in a whisper. He sounded hesitant, as if he didn’t want to ask something stupid.

            “Yes,” Iraella answered promptly, also whispering. “Exactly like your painting.” And it was true. He had gotten everything right as far as Iraella could tell. Everything from the fair skin to the tunic made up of little tree leaves that turned up just above her knees.

            Iraella glanced at her friend and saw that he had an almost satisfied look on his face. Iraella smiled slightly too. It was nice to see him looking happy.

            They walked amongst the long grass that rose almost to Iraella’s waist for only a bit longer, then there was a small stretch of trees with a trail going through the middle. It was narrow, so Iraella told Baeddan to shift to the side to that branches wouldn’t hit him.

            “Almost there,” she said several times. Almost home.

            Yes! She saw the opening ahead. The branches cleared aside and first Mabon and Barden walked through, then Iraella and Baeddan. They walked along familiar gray pavement. Oh, the world felt so good right now!

            Then Iraella screamed in horror. Something else familiar was ahead. It wasn’t anything welcome.

            “Hello,” one of the Zerhze said in its nails-on-chalkboard voice. There were three of them, all hovering in midair. The one that spoke held Silera, the next Eamon, and the next Calida.

            “Mother! Father!” Iraella cried. She tried to run towards them, but Baeddan clutched her hand and held her back. “Do they have Calida?” he whispered.

            “Yes, yes they do!” Iraella said. She still was crying. The Zerhze were laughing mirthlessly, their blood red eyes reduced to slits.

            “Let them go!” Iraella yelled, even though she knew it was no good. They would never let them go.

            They all broke into laughter again. Silera’s unconscious body hung above the ground, limp as a rag doll, as did Eamon’s and Calida’s.

            “Come with us, girl. We will release them. If not…..” the Zerhze holding Silera smiled unpleasantly, looking down at her mother.

            Iraella looked tearfully at Baeddan, who she knew couldn’t see her. “I have to go,” she whispered faintly. “I have to.”

            “No, don’ do it!” said Mabon. “They won’ release them, trus’ me!”

            “Mabon—just stay safe. All of you,” Iraella added to Barden and Baeddan. She slowly let Baeddan’s hand slip out of hers and walked reluctantly to the Zerhze.

            “What do you want me for anyway?” she whispered to the one holding Silera in a tearful voice.

            “You will see,” hissed the Zerhze. He dropped Silera none too gently to the ground, and the other two did the same. Iraella cast one last glance at the others’ sad faces, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time she would see them. Two scabby black hands scooped her up off her feet, making her cringe, and flew way up in the sky.

            Iraella only barely heard the shouts below of Barden, Mabon and Baeddan from the rushing of wind. She wanted to know who wanted her gone this badly, and who would do any of this?